Miscarried and Broken!

I feel broken. Completely and totally broken.

This is the 4th miscarriage I am having to live through. The 4th baby I will never hold in my arms. The 4th baby whose voice I will never hear. The 4th baby whose feet I will never kiss, whose smile I will never see, whom I will never hear call me mom. The 4th time my heart is so completely broken, that I feel like I will very physically break in half. My chest physically hurts from the pain of this beautiful baby lost.

Even though my baby was not big enough for me to feel her kicks, I could feel she was there. I didn't even know yet, if my baby was a boy or a girl, but I feel in my gut that I had a baby girl.

The bond between mother and child starts at conception for me. Even before I knew she was there, she knew me. She was a part of me. She was dependent on me. She needed me. From the moment I knew she was there, I loved her, I wanted her and she was mine.

It has been over a year of trying to conceive this child and finally, finally, we had our prayers answered, just for it to be taken away, just like that. *finger snap

It is hard. Really, really hard to accept. It feels like I failed.


  • Did I not love her enough?
  • Did I do something/eat something that caused this?
  • Did I not want her enough?
  • Did I want her too much?
  • Is my body defective?
  • I already have 3 kids, was I being selfish wanting her so much?

So many questions. So much guilt. It’s just so much.

I have been through this 3 times before, so I know in time I will find a way to accept it. I will find a way to move on. Which is partly why I am writing this blog post. Writing helps me process. Writing helps me think. Writing helps me connect with others to offer support and be supported. In my pain, and through my tears I wrote A Broken Mama’s Guide to Miscarriage eBook and I hope that you find some measure of strength, healing and hope.

For now, I am just going to let myself break. For now I have no answers to my questions. For now I am shattered and broken. So I write to try to make sense of the senseless. I write to ease some of the pain. I write because my child is lost and there is nothing I can do to get her back. So I take it one day at a time and let myself feel my pain.

I am going to give myself time. I am going to let myself break and when I can break no more, I will start the business of picking myself back up. 


  • I break for the dreams lost.
  • I break watching my husband cry and watching his heart break just as mine is breaking.
  • I break for my kids who were so excited to welcome another brother or sister
  • I break because the boys don’t fully understand what happened and why there is no baby in mommy’s tummy anymore.
  • I break for myself, waiting for labor to start so I can deliver my baby. A baby I know I have lost. Delivering this child will not be beautiful, joyous experience I had imagined it would be. Instead, the pain of child birth will deliver a still born baby and will break my heart with every contraction.

So for now I will let myself cry.

I will allow myself to cry when I see pregnant women on TV.

I will allow myself to cry when I catch myself rubbing my belly, only to remember that that little life is not in there anymore.

I will let myself cry when I see babies on social media and see friends welcome babies into the world.

I also let myself cry for the 3 miracles that I do have. In my grief, I still recognize that I am blessed. I have 3 amazing children, each one of them a miracle. I cry as I look at my four year old’s little hands, when I hear his little baby voice and when he stretches his arms up and asks me to hold him.

I look at my 6 year old and I remember him as preemie in the NICU and what a blessing it is that he is here today. I smile and let tears roll down my cheeks as he tells me about the latest YouTube video he is into; as he brings me a sandwich he has made for me. When he says “I can still be your baby mom.”

I shed a few tears when I see my 16 year old daughter being an amazing babysitter and watching her feed her brothers and give them a bath, when I am just too broken to do it myself. I draw strength from her hugs and her various and varied ways to make me laugh through my pain.

If you have been through a miscarriage, or going through one now. I want you to know that it is okay to be broken. It is okay to cry. It is okay to be mad. It is okay to be confused and a ball of mixed emotions. It’s fine to be depressed, just don’t stay there too long though, you and I both have to get back up, but give yourself some time to break. Close the drapes, shut the lights, assume the fetal position and break.

The light is coming. While you can’t see it now, there are brighter days ahead. You will laugh again. A day will come when you can hold a baby without completely falling apart. A day is coming when you can look at baby pictures or see pregnancy announcements and while you will feel a twinge of pain in your heart you will be able to truly be happy for them. You might even get strong enough to try to conceive again.

Either way, you are not alone Mama. If you are looking for support, or if you need someone to break with you. Feel free to get in-touch at Jasmine@LifesaverCoaching.com I am a real person and I respond to my emails. It may feel like you are not alone, trust me, I know the feeling all too well, but you are not alone. Reach out mama. We all need a lifeline.

Until I get the chance to give you an email hug, download the free A Broken Mama’s Guide to Miscarriage eBook.

feel your loss girl. We will break together and we will pick up the pieces together. One day we will see our beautiful babies and finally get the chance to hold them in our arms.

f you know someone who can benefit from this blog post please go ahead and share it. No one should have to feel alone when facing such an incredible loss. Unfortunately, I have been through this 4 times, but it also means that I know exactly how you feel. I know how broken you are. So go ahead and share this where ever you think it will be useful.

Here's to holding our babies in our arms one day.